


The Space Between Creation and Destruction

by rebelling_against_a_rebellion



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro Lives, Angst, Awkwardness, Breaking and Entering, Canon-Typical Violence, Espionage, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forced Cohabitation, Hacking, Hurt/Comfort, Illegal Activities, Living Together, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Murder, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Post-Canon, Post-Persona 5, Slow Burn, Sneaking Around, Thriller, basically a buncha sneaky sneakies and catching the feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28205373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelling_against_a_rebellion/pseuds/rebelling_against_a_rebellion
Summary: Yusuke Kitagawa was getting ready to tackle the challenges of his senior year at Kosei High, but there was one challenge that he never would've expected: sheltering Goro Akechi, who is very much alive and forced into hiding when a personal tragedy strikes.While Shido's conspiracy may be out of the public eye, it'll only be a mater of time before they reemerge to try to take over Japan once again. Now forced to rely on each other, Yusuke and Akechi have to work together to nip the threat in the bud to get rid of the conspiracy for good while evading detection.As for these growing feelings of fondness, it's because they're growing closer as teammates, doing whatever it takes to protect the other for the sake of survival...Right?
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kitagawa Yusuke, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	1. Driven by Instinct Once Again

**Author's Note:**

> From the most popular ship to a rare pair, huh? I wish I could tell you how my brain latched onto Akekita brainrot, but it did, and this longfic is what's going to come of it. This fic's about 90-95% outlined, so I assure you this insane idea will be completed eventually.
> 
> Note that I may post the next chapter before New Year's, but no promises on that cuz after the insanity of working this entire mess of a year, I desperately need a break.
> 
> Either way, I hope that you enjoy!

Sitting on a bench in Kichijoji, Yusuke paused his usual sketching when he noticed a young man with a light blue surgical mask amongst the crowd. The sight caught his attention as it was far too late in the season to catch a cold considering the growing warmth of mid-April. And yet, to his left, further ahead past the tourist information booth, stood this odd individual on the sidewalk, practically engulfed in his dark red hoodie, hood up, hands stuffed in the front pocket, and the bottom half of their face covered. They appeared to be examining a small motel’s prices advertised on an outdoor price board.

Those eyes. An unmistakable auburn with an inquisitive sharpness that Yusuke had only seen in one other person before. Someone who should be dead by all accounts after the destruction of Maruki’s reality.

_It couldn’t be._

His body moved before he could stop himself, shoving his sketchbook into his school bag and got up to enter the shopping street swarming with people. Yusuke strolled closer, casually turning his head to read the passing promotional sales signs on storefront windows to his left while keeping the hooded figure up ahead in sight at the corner of his eye.

He’s being ridiculous right now. Granted, Yusuke’s already aware of his eccentricity, even amongst his fellow art students at Kosei High. He had a habit of letting his instincts guide him before he fully thought things through. This led him to following people that interested him in some artistic way. It could be how a person carried themselves, or how an overheard snippet of conversation caught his attention. It was how he met Akira, Ryuji, and Ann after all, drawn in by Ann’s natural golden locks, a rarity in Japan.

Little did he know that that chance encounter close to a year ago now would ultimately change his life. Perhaps even saved it, though he preferred to not dwell on what could’ve happened to him had he never had the Phantom Thieves in his life. In that instance, it was by following his instincts that his life became better.

But this? Tailing a stranger thinking that it could be _him_ of all people? That, he will admit, was beyond even him, chasing what could be the ghost of a dead man. And yet, something nagged at him. He needed to be sure, if only for his own peace of mind.

The figure turned away and continued on down the street. Against his better judgement, Yusuke followed him, trying to blend into the afternoon crowds flowing through this tunnel of stores and restaurants, the streets illuminated with the late afternoon sun shining through the glass roof up above the street. The figure picked up the pace to a power walk and turned down a narrow side street.

Yusuke was about to follow, only to stop. Following that person into the side street would be too obvious. He quickly ran through a mental map of the area in his head from his previous visits here. If this was indeed the person who Yusuke thought it was, then there was one place that he might go to. There were those instances where Akira had asked Yusuke and the others if they wanted to hang out at the Penguin Sniper with them. He was pretty sure that no one else joined them. It was a long shot, but if he could just run fast enough…

Yusuke broke out into a sprint to follow this half-baked plan, running through a wider street past a furniture shop towards the end of the block. He turned onto the next major street and it didn’t take long for the glowing teal of the Penguin Sniper sign to come into view. Across the street from the entrance of the darts and billiards establishment, there was a narrow side street. He hurried ahead and peered down it.

Sure enough, he found who he was looking for. The figure halted mid-step just as they were about to emerge onto the street. Their eyes met.

The figure’s eyes widened in disbelief, morphing into fear. He spun on his heel to dash back into the shadows from which he came. That movement caused his hood covering his head to fly off, freeing the flowing light brown hair underneath.

It _was_ him.

“Akechi?” Yusuke called out and chased after him, sprinting over the stray pieces of debris, maneuvering around sharp turns into a series of narrow alleyways, dark and spotted with litter. It’s strange to think that such a massive maze like this could be here in Kichijoji. Yusuke was thankful for his tall, thin physique for once as his long legs propelled him forward, keeping Akechi in sight.

Akechi turned right into another narrow alley, soon followed by a clatter. Yusuke turned to enter the alleyway, but stopped to avoid tripping over the uneven crack on the sidewalk and a toppled metal trash can, which had apparently just felled the previously dignified detective prince. Akechi had just scrambled up to his feet to continue forward, only to face a brick wall, a dead end with no other branching paths.

“Akechi!” Yusuke called out once more. After a moment, Akechi turned around to face him.

Yusuke hadn’t been that close to the young detective back when Akechi joined the Phantom Thieves with the intent to take them down. Neither of them interacted much during that brief period aside from some exchanges during their ventures into Mementos. But to Yusuke, Akechi had always given off a vibe of self-confidence, regardless whether he was the upstanding detective prince or the blunt, sharp tongued Metaverse assassin. Now though? Fear and confusion were in those auburn eyes, a crack of vulnerability he’d never seen before.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Yusuke reassured as he stepped over the spilt garbage can and cautiously stepped towards him, a risk knowing full well how deadly Akechi could be. “I just need to know if it’s really you.” With every step closer, Akechi stepped backwards away from him.

An aggravated grunt as Akechi pulled down his blue mask to reveal the rest of his pale face, greeting him with a snarl. “See? It’s me. Now you know, so go away!” 

“You think I’m just going to go about my day knowing that you’re somehow still alive?” Yusuke said.

“Why the fuck do you care?”

“I just want a clear answer. What happened to you after we destroyed Maruki’s reality?” A jolt of fear rushed through him with a horrifying idea. “Unless we’re somehow still stuck in that fake reality!?”

“No, we’re not, you fucking idiot! That’s the first thing I checked!” Akechi’s now backed up against the wall with only Yusuke standing in the way. While he could get closer to him, Yusuke stopped where he was just out of Akechi’s reach. That is, assuming that Akechi didn’t have a concealed gun on him. Then again, if he did, he would’ve brandished it by now to scare him off.

“Again I ask, how is it that—?”

An odd gurgle cut the tension in the air. Yusuke instinctively looked down at his stomach. It didn’t seem to be him though. Another gurgle, louder and more apparent that it was coming from Akechi, whose face turned red.

“When did you last eat?”

“Heh, that’s rich, coming from the starving artist.” Yet another incessant gurgle overshadowed Akechi’s comment. He sighed in defeat. “…Since yesterday.”

“Considering it is you we’re talking about, I’m assuming that you’re up to something,” Yusuke took another step towards him. “So what's going on?”

Akechi looked down for a moment, his face contemplating whatever options he had set up for himself. Eventually, he answered. “Fine. I’ll explain once we’re somewhere more private.”

“With food, I assume? I actually have enough money to buy you something.”

Akechi’s stomach gurgled, answering for him. The brunette’s shoulders drooped in embarrassed resignation. “Sure.”

It’s surreal, walking side by side with someone that Yusuke had accepted to be a dead man. Yet, here he was, dealing with a dour, shifty eyed man who is seething under his face mask, hood covering his head once more. Eventually, they stopped to sit at a solitary bench in a quiet residential street with barely anyone else around. Seemed that this was the best he could do, since Akechi refused to eat at a sit down place, wanting to remain out of the public eye. They sat on the bench, Yusuke placing the plastic Triple Seven bag between them, pulling out the onigiris he had bought for them. They ate in silence.

Chewing the salty rice ball, Yusuke thought that this moment of quiet would give him time to sort out his thoughts. If anything, it only led to more questions than answers popping up in his head.

“Why do you still have it?” Akechi asked before taking a gulp from the cheap water bottle.

“Have what?”

“That ring of keys to Madarame’s old shack? It’s not like you live there anymore. Besides, who else still carries an old ring of keys that jangle loudly wherever they go?” Yusuke felt the weight of his old ring of keys that bounced against his right leg. He was so used to it, the metallic jingling a sound he had long since tuned out and forgot that it was something that bothered other people.

“...I’m not sure. Out of habit, I suppose?” he answered honestly. Yusuke turned on the bench to more fully face Akechi. “Besides, it’s not me we’re here to discuss.”

“I know.”

Yusuke sat up. “Before anything else, how are you still alive?”

“I’m not certain, but I have a theory.”

“And what would that be?”

Akechi looked at Yusuke’s school bag. “I assume you have a sketchbook with you? It would help make the explanation easier.”

Yusuke hesitated before wordlessly taking out his sketchbook, flipping past his previous sketches of people, nature, and anatomy practice. He settled on a blank page near the back before handing over the sketchbook and a pencil to Akechi. The blank page opened on his lap, Akechi thumbed the edges of all the other pages, but didn’t flip them open.

Pencil in his left hand, Akechi starts with a horizontal line, making a simple arrow pointing right. “Let’s imagine for a moment that this line represents the timeline of our current reality,” he adds a small dot on the line. “And this point here is the moment where I got shot in Shido’s palace.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that you survived that?”

“I don’t. But I’m sure you can believe _this_ ,” Akechi lifted up his hoodie and shirt enough to expose the right side of his torso. Yusuke gasped. Just above Akechi’s right hip, there’s a dark pink scar, the marks of previous stitches barely visible.

“I got lucky. At least I got my fake in the head,” Akechi let out a dark chuckle.

“Surely, you couldn’t have done that by yourself!”

Akechi lowered his hoodie back down. “You’re right. It’s because of that damn Maruki.”

“Maruki?”

Akechi’s face hardened, voice sharp and bitter as he continued, pointing again at the dot on the line. “I barely got out of the palace shortly after you all left, but I passed out. Turns out I got unlucky enough to get spotted by Maruki, who just so happened to be passing by and got me into a hospital. The next thing I knew, I woke up a few days later with Maruki at my bedside.”

“Did you know who he was back then?” Yusuke asked.

“Of course, I didn’t know. To think that that stranger would turn out to be such a manipulative man…”

Akechi drew another dot further along the line, pointing out the space between the two dots. “I don’t want to talk about it all in detail, but through talking with him, he somehow figured out that I knew Akira. Essentially, he pulled the same shit on me that he did with Rumi and later on with Sumire. He calls it actualization, but that was nothing more than erasing my memories completely so that I wouldn’t remember I survived.”

“...Leaving enough ambiguity to make it seem possible that you did indeed die, even though you were alive this entire time.” Yusuke concluded.

Akechi nodded. “You catch on quick. You’re not as stupid as I thought.”

Yusuke’s brow twitched, snapping back: “I know I’m no Makoto or you, but I’m not _that_ daft.”

Akechi seemed taken aback by Yusuke’s reaction. Whatever it was, Akechi shook his head and continued. From the second dot, Akechi drew another arrow branching off from the main line. The creation of Maruki’s reality.

“That piece of shit knew what he was doing. He was using me,” Akechi was getting riled up, his anger palpable. “He dangled my life in front of Akira, hoping that he’ll give in and stay in that farce of a life, all while Maruki knew the truth of my fate!” His voice contained notes of despair as he continued. “Fuck, even _I_ believed him! It was only once we saw Sumire's tape in the palace that I finally remembered what Maruki did to me. Making me a puppet to fulfill some selfish ideals once again...”

Yusuke realized the root of Akechi’s deep-seated anger towards Maruki. Akechi was under Shido’s thumb for years, then manipulated by Maruki. All so that those adults could fulfill their version of a perfect world, completely under their control, all while leaving Akechi unable to freely enjoy life on his own terms. Yusuke had lived a similar life, albeit to a lesser extent, under Madarame.

“So when we destroyed Maruki’s reality and everything went back to how it was before, you returned to this reality like all of us,” Yusuke said.

“Yes,“ Akechi had regained some of his composure by then. He then closed the sketchbook and returned it and the pencil back to Yusuke. “I had heard about Akira turning himself in last December, confirming this is indeed our own reality as I had turned myself in instead back in Maruki’s reality.” The hard edges of his face softened, concern seeping through his voice. “How is Akira, by the way?”

Yusuke smiled. “He’s free now. We’ve actually helped him get released early by getting proof of his innocence. He’s since moved back to his hometown.”

“Oh. That’s good,” A hint of a smile crossed Akechi’s face before it faded. “Probably for the best. He’s been through a lot.”

“Yes, he has,” Yusuke agreed, recalling some recent late night conversations where Akira's voice was cracked and vulnerable, his poor friend apologizing for tearing up while Yusuke comforted him. “At least it’s all over now.”

“Heh. You wish,” Yusuke tilted his head at Akechi who sat up straight. “Shido might be behind bars now, but there’s still the rest of the conspiracy that Shido had left behind. They’ve kept themselves out of the public eye for the past few months to avoid bad press. Now, it’ll only be a matter of time before they try again under new leadership."

“Hold on,” Yusuke cut him off, afraid of where this was going. “You’re not trying to tell me that you’re going to take them on by yourself?”

Akechi shrugged, in the same way that Yusuke would do to act like adding yet another homework assignment or another project to his growing workload wasn’t a big deal. “There’s no one else aside from me who knows the full extent of their activities. Though, it turns out it’s a lot easier said than done. Previously normal activities have been altered to avoid potential tracking, people are probably clambering for power, everything structurally has been in flux since Shido was arrested. Plus, I can’t just stroll in and stop them.”

Yusuke couldn’t help but recall the fraying missing posters of Akechi Goro, with some rumours that he was dead circulating.

“They don’t know I’m alive,” Akechi said. “Plus, we no longer have access to the Metaverse or our personas. Still, I’ve made it this far.”

“Then how have you been able to survive alone since February?”

Akechi’s eyes soften, oddly enough, eyes lost elsewhere as he looked to the sky. “I did have a bit of help.”

Akechi’s cell phone buzzed in his hoodie pocket. He checked his phone, smiling at the text. “Heh. Speaking of help—”

“Who is it?” Yusuke tried to lean in only for Akechi to lean away, holding his phone close to his chest. “Not anyone you need to know about.”

“I can only assume that it’s the person who looked after you all this time, isn’t it?”

“People, not person,” Akechi looked back at the screen and texted something back, though Yusuke couldn’t see what was being said. While texting, Akechi’s face darkened, eyes filled with barely contained worry. Once he finished, he pocketed his phone. “If you absolutely must know, they’re some people in a remote rehab centre on the outskirts of Tokyo.”

A rehab centre? With Akechi’s anger towards Maruki, Yusuke figured that a place with other counsellors would be the last place that Akechi would go to seek refuge. Still, Akechi wasn’t the kind of person to attach himself to anything or anyone with no real reason. What that connection was though, Yusuke couldn’t quite fathom.

“If you’re safe with them, why are you out here alone?” Yusuke asked.

“There’s only so much that I can do from out there.”

“So why these people—?”

“None of your business!” Akechi crossed his arms. “All you need to know is that I’ve known them long before I met you all. Long before everything went to shit.”

So there _was_ a personal connection. Yusuke sensed that any more questions about the place would be tricky ground to tread, so he decided to change the subject. “So, you were scanning the hotel prices trying to find a place to sleep for the night?”

Akechi nodded. “I have some money from when I did errands and chores at the rehab centre, but I’m trying to stretch it out for as long as I can.”

“Hence not eating,” Yusuke said. As he often did, he spoke before fully processing the idea in his head. “I could take you in.”

Akechi stared at him as if he had just grown another limb. “ _What?_ “

“I’ll be between my dorm room and my assigned art studio. You could stay at the art studio assigned to me for the night.”

“And why would I go through with that idea?”

“Do you have any other alternatives? Who else could take you in?”

Akechi opened his mouth only to pause, sinking back in his seat with brows furrowed in thought. No answer came. 

“Exactly,” Yusuke replied. “You have nowhere else to go.” Since March, all the previous members of the Phantom Thieves were studying abroad, had moved away, or were busy with their lives in Tokyo. Out of everyone still in Tokyo, almost all of them wouldn’t dare lift a finger for Akechi, especially not Haru and Futaba. Makoto, maybe? But no. Out of everyone, it ended up being Yusuke who stumbled upon him, left with the decision on what to do with all of this knowledge.

“The others have good reason to not want me around,” Akechi mumbled. He sounded almost sad.

“It’s not that I _want_ you around. It’s just...” Yusuke shifted in his seat. “The others, especially Akira, have done so much for me. It’s not much, but since Akira was your friend, I’ll help you this one time.”

Akechi stared at the ground for a bit before he finally answered. “Fine. But just for the night. I’ll leave tomorrow and we’ll go our separate ways.”

“Agreed. I’ve got a lot on my plate, now that I’m a senior and all.” On top of keeping up his grades to maintain his scholarship, which is what’s allowing him to stay at the dorms, there were also some summer festival artist vendor applications that he was considering.

The pair get up from the bench, Akechi donning his hood and mask.

“Before we return, we’ll get you a futon or sleeping bag for the night. Will you be alright coming with me?”

“Just make it quick,” Akechi replied.

With that, Yusuke began the journey back to the train station with Akechi following closely behind.


	2. Exhausted Embers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this took a lot longer than I was hoping to and I apologize for the delay. I just shut down mentally for a bit, but I've gotten better enough to complete and post this chapter praying that it's passable.
> 
> Still, I hope you enjoy regardless!

The fluorescent lights and the pop music echoing from the distant speakers of the large department store was strange after all these months away from general society. He had been getting used to the quiet neighborhood of the countryside town that housed the rehabilitation and mental health centre that he had called home the past few months. The place where he and his mother once considered a second home at one point.

Now, walking through bright aisles with many strangers around him, the liveliness of Tokyo’s metropolitan life felt unfamiliar despite the fact that he grew up in this city. It bordered on overwhelming. 

“Akechi,” Yusuke’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Have you been listening?”

That left no place for Akechi to hide, leaving only this tall artist as his only hope of making it through this place without detection. He’s practically Yusuke’s shadow at this point, following closely behind him.

“Yes, I have,” Akechi replied automatically.

Yusuke crossed his arms and tilted his head. “Then what has Futaba been doing since we last met?” he asked.

Oh. That’s right. For some reason, Yusuke had been going on and on about how the others are doing and where they’re at.

"So you weren't paying attention," Yusuke huffed in frustration. "Right. Of course you wouldn't care to know."

"Then why did you start? Surely you've got other friends to talk to about this stuff."

Yusuke opened his mouth to retort, but shut his mouth, staring at the ground while he scratched his arm. He pushed on ahead to the bedding aisle without answering him. Catching up to him, Yusuke apparently chose to stare holes into the blankets and bedsheets packaged in front of them rather than at him.

“Must you follow so closely?” Yusuke grumbled.

Akechi balled his fists tighter in the front pocket of his hoodie. “It was your idea to suddenly start dumping life stories about the others onto me. It’s not like I need to know about everyone’s whereabouts if you all rode off into the sunset into your happy little lives—”

“You seemed to pay close enough attention regarding Akira’s circumstances,” Yusuke pointed out, shoving a pillow towards Akechi, still not meeting his face.

Akechi tucked the plastic-bagged pillow under his arm. “That’s different,” he muttered, more to himself than anything. He raised his voice enough to hiss at him. “And like I was saying, if you’re planning to talk extensively, it would make more sense for me to hear you in closer proximity versus having you babble on loudly for everyone to hear.” Akechi’s tense arm was already crushing his new cheap pillow.

Yusuke looked at him exasperated. He couldn't remember Yusuke looking this annoyed before. “We’re shopping in public,” he flatly replied. He continued towards the end of the aisle and pulled out the cheapest folded up futon that was available. “If they were following you, do you really think they would make a scene out here in plain view?”

Akechi sighed. "I suppose not, but—"

Yusuke turned to step out of the aisle, but bumped into someone in front of him, Akechi running face first into Yusuke’s back.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, miss!” Yusuke replied to the apparent woman that was making Akechi’s life much more difficult. He quickly turned his head away, making sure his hood was up, his heart pounding as he tried to look focused on whether he wanted the pale white bedsheets or the cream-colored ones. All the while, he overheard the conversation.

“It’s alright! No harm done,” the woman replied. She sounded to be older, possibly late thirties? It was slight, but there was a notable pause before Yusuke responded, awkwardly letting the woman walk further away.

Once the footsteps faded, Akechi spun towards Yusuke. “What the hell was that?!”

“It was an accident!”

“I don’t care, and what did you pause for?”

Yusuke peered down where the woman apparently went, his brows furrowing while his deep gray eyes lit up in a familiar glow, distant and curious. That look was something Akechi recognized from back when he had worked with the Phantom Thieves, one that happened whenever Yusuke was intrigued by something in an artistic sense, lost in his thoughts at times until someone snapped him out of it. “She seemed interesting, what with the tattoos peeking out from under her long sleeves—”

“I don’t care about the reason!” Akechi snapped back louder than he intended, Yusuke flinching out of his self-induced trance. Something odd crossed his face that Akechi noticed. It was something akin to fear, maybe.

Noticing this, Akechi caught himself and lowered his voice. “We got what we need. Stop letting your mind wander and let’s go.”

The dorms of Kosei High were fairly ordinary. The four-storey building was simple, grey, and sturdy. One would assume that there would be elaborate art painted across the front considering its prestigious arts program. Perhaps the funding was directed towards the supplies for classes? Stepping into the lobby, however, revealed the various mediums that the students here worked on and expressed their creative spirits. Walking past the couches and desks of the lobby, the interior walls were decorated with paintings in bold colors, photography of rural villages, and even a few small sculptures erected by the far walls.

Yusuke’s room was on the top floor, so they climbed up the plain, white stairwell as this was an older building with no elevators. Since it was evening now, it was likely that most students were busy having dinner as they thankfully didn’t encounter anyone else.

Akechi followed Yusuke down the hall, then peeked into the empty common room. There was a minimal kitchen equipped at the back of the room. A stove, an oven, a few shelves, and an older looking communal fridge. At the other end of the room was a couch and some chairs surrounding a low table and a small TV up on the opposite wall.

Yusuke pointed out the two doors to the washrooms further ahead from the common area. Akechi pulled out the fresh towel they bought earlier and the two separated, Yusuke carrying the rest of the items they bought in a plastic bag and the futon under his arm and Akechi heading towards the showers.

His heart pounded as he pushed the men's washroom door open. Walking towards the sinks and mirrors, the counters were littered with various toothbrushes and hair products. He glanced back and forth between the curtained shower stalls at one end and the toilet stalls and urinals on the other end. It was silent with no showers running, and there was no sign of anyone inside of the toilet stalls either.

_God, you’re so paranoid._

No. He was cautious, not paranoid. At least, he was trying to be. Was there really a difference between the two?

Doesn't matter. He couldn’t take any chances. Even if sightings of him by others his age would be dismissed as just rumours, that would be enough to draw attention to himself. If what Azumi-san had told him earlier was true...

He shook his head. He’ll text her back later.

Akechi stepped into the furthest shower stall and undressed himself. The warm water raining onto his skin melted the tension in his shoulders, the sound providing a white noise where he allowed himself to breathe out a relieved sigh. He grabbed the cheap bottle that Yusuke mentioned. It belongs to him and he allowed Akechi to use it for the night. Akechi massaged his hair and body with the combined shampoo and body wash with its overpowering fresh scent of mint. Now fully washed, it was tempting for him to stay under the warm water for just a bit longer, but he knew that it would only be safe for him once he was securely away from potential prying eyes and ears.

Reluctantly, he stepped out of the shower, dried himself off, and changed back into his clothes, the only set that he thought to bring.

He didn’t think too far ahead about the scope of this mission, he had to admit. Then again, what did he even have to prepare with? It's not like he had a lot of belongings anymore. He had attempted to get some things from his previous apartment earlier that morning, a place that Shido had Akechi live in while working for him, but found that the location had been gutted of all his belongings and was put for sale. That old bastard probably did that during Akechi's disappearance back in late November. That left him with no supplies for a long-term stay aside from some money, enough for a few nights at most. He'll just have to head back to the rehab centre to gather more supplies in the next day or two, then he'll return to continue his solo investigation.

Now fully clothed, he sped through the long hall, silently cursing the fact that Yusuke’s room was all the way at the end of the hall. Finding Yusuke’s name tag on the door, he knocked and Yusuke let him in.

The small room was beige, the room's window letting the evening sunlight stream into the single dorm. On the right side of the window sat a twin sized bed tucked into the upper right corner of the room, covered in simple navy bed coverings. Yusuke sat cross legged on top of it looking between his phone and an open notebook with a few columns of written text, some of it crossed out. A small sliding closet door faced the foot of the bed. Left of the window and across from the bed was a simple desk and chair with some pre-installed floating shelves above it, ones that appeared to have been in the room for a while as evidenced by the smoothed, worn edges from use over the years.

Akechi tried to bury the sour envy building in his chest at this sight of normalcy. He thought about those university entrance exams he never got the chance to take. It was out of his reach now. He lost his chance at a normal life the moment he began his plan for revenge all those years ago.

“So, where will you stay for the night?” Yusuke's voice drew Akechi out of his thoughts.

Akechi stepped towards the desk, picking up his futon and cheap toothbrush and toothpaste that sat on top of it. “This room is quite small. I’m not sure there’s enough room to lay my futon here,” he pointed out the narrow space of carpeted floor between the bed and the desk. Technically, it could work, but he’d rather not be so constricted with space. “You mentioned earlier that you have access to an art studio or something?”

“Yes, I’ll come along and show you where it is,” Yusuke got up from his bed. “There’s some things that I need to get from there anyways.”

Akechi put up his hood and the pair left the building without another word. The studio building was just next door to the dorms, a similar style, except that it thankfully had elevators. They were bigger than he would've expected, only to remember that it was likely to make room for rolling around some larger sculptures and such.

"You should be fine for a bit," Yusuke said. "Since it's early in the year, not a lot of students would be around. It only really picks up when we'd need to complete projects or study for exams. It's not like you're the first one to sleep overnight in a studio, many of us had done the same. It’s not officially supported by the school, of course, but that doesn’t stop some of us. I certainly did that last year, especially with balancing school and Phantom Thief duties."

Akechi tilted his head in curiosity as they stepped out of the elevator on the third floor. “Why? The dorms are right there.”

“Clearly you don't understand the creative urge that drives one to stay up late when a spark of inspiration strikes!"

God, he's so dramatic.

They eventually stopped in front of a simple door. Yusuke pulled off his ring of keys, picked out an obviously newer key from the bunch, and unlocked the door. The strong smell of paint filled Akechi’s nose as they stepped into the cluttered space. Intermingled with the paint was an underlying antique sort of smell, of old wood that had survived years of use. He noticed some old easels of different sizes sitting at the edges of the room along with some small cans and tubes of paint. At the center of the room was a white topped work table covered in sketches, used paintbrushes, pencils, and handwritten notes.

"Isn't it a bit early in the year for projects?" Akechi asked. 

“No, those aren't for class,” Yusuke picked up some pages of scribbled notes and sketches from the work table. "It's something separate, so please don’t touch or mess with anything, understand? I have a system in place.”

Akechi took in this apparent system, which to him, looked more like the remnants of a storm blowing through the room. “A system of entropy and chaos, I presume?”

Yusuke rolled his eyes. He folded the papers in his hand and put them in his pocket, already making his way to the door. “I don’t expect someone like you to understand.”

“Like I care,” Akechi plopped the folded up futon at one side of the room between the work table and the wall. “I’ll be out of your life in the morning.”

“Very well," Yusuke gave him a curt nod. “Good night.”

“Night,” he replied flatly.

Yusuke closed the door, the lock clicking into place. Akechi took the door handle, giving it a test jiggle to confirm that the door was indeed locked.

He immediately walked back to set up the futon. He then realized that he would have to return this futon in the morning before he had to leave. Great. So much for not having to deal with Yusuke again.

Once everything was set up, Akechi crawled under the warm covers. Now alone, he checked his cell phone, reading over the conversation he had earlier with Azumi-san, a staff member at the facility alongside Nobu-san. Even after all those years apart since they last interacted and the initial shock at finding him at their doorstep that Christmas Eve, the recognition on her face made his heart feel warm that night, a familiar face that took him in without hesitation.

So far, his text conversation with Azumi-san read:

_Goro, are you doing alright?_

**I’m alright Azumi-san.**

**This will be more difficult than i thought, so i’m going to come back tomorrow to get some things.**

_No. Don’t!_

**...Why not?**

_It’s a long story._

_Basically, there’s these two people that came by earlier asking questions like if we’ve seen anything odd, specifically any missing persons, naming you as an example. Pushy about it too._

_We said nothing of course, and we still have no official record of you anywhere considering your circumstances. Still, best for you to wait until things calm down for a bit. Better to be safe than sorry._

**...That's not good.**

**You two are okay, right?**

_Of course we're fine. Are you somewhere safe for the night at least_?

**I’ll get back to you on that. i’ll think of something.**

_Alright… just wait until either I or Nobu-san text or call you back before you return. We’ll explain more then._

There had been no texts or calls from either of his caretakers since that afternoon when he was talking with Yusuke.

"Oh no." His eyes widened, noticing that his phone was nearly dead. He tapped on his texting app to answer back.

Only for his phone to die right there.

He slammed his face into his pillow and groaned. He somehow didn’t think to pick up a charging cord of all things! Now he wouldn’t be able to let them know that he was fine.

Whatever. He’ll get a charger in the morning once he leaves. Despite it being still early, he fell asleep, exhausted from the insane situation that he somehow fell into.

The next morning, he shot up in a panic before he remembered where he was. He got up and brushed his teeth in a small bathroom further down the hall, still empty with no students around. He folded up the futon, drew up his hood, and walked back to the dorms.

He tried knocking on Yusuke's door to no response. Then he tried opening it, but it was locked, and he didn't have the key. With nowhere else to put it, he unceremoniously dropped the folded futon in front of Yusuke’s door. It was cheap anyway. If he lost it or someone else took it, that would be Yusuke’s problem, not his.

A gnawing heaviness briefly festered in his chest, doing that to him. Compared to the others, he didn’t really have a reason to be that rude towards him. Then again, he was already aware of Yusuke’s existence before they’ve ever met, though not in a lot of detail. While keeping tabs on Shido’s subordinates, Madarame included, Akechi would become aware of the people closest to them, even if only as a name mentioned in passing or written on a document. Yusuke being one of Madarame’s youngest art pupils was not news to him, just another name without a face that wouldn't really matter in the grand scheme of Akechi's own plans. However, the more he pieced together the conditions that Madarame's pupils had endured and sometimes died under, the more some small, long buried part of him sympathized with this Yusuke, another young man whose talents and circumstances were taken advantage of by his father figure.

Akechi crept down the empty hall towards the staircase, his path to freedom. However, as he approached the floor's common room, the murmuring of several students and something playing on the TV caught his attention. 

“But why would anyone target _that place_ of all things?”

“At least it’s outside of Tokyo.”

“Excuse you, but my grandparents live near there!”

He stopped at the entry to the common room, the stairs right ahead of him. All he had to do was take a few more steps and he would be in the stairwell. Yet, he didn't move. Perhaps there was a possible lead being talked about?

Curiosity got the better of him. He stayed in place and peered over into the common room, making certain that he remained hidden from view. Almost everyone inside the common room was gathered around the TV. Even Yusuke was there, eyes glued to the screen. By chance, Yusuke’s eyes flitted over to him. Akechi's heart leapt in his chest at being noticed, but Yusuke quickly turned his attention back to the screen.

On the TV, there was a young female reporter standing in front of a familiar sight. It was the entrance to the rehab centre that Akechi had been hiding out in over the past few months. It was normally a simple entrance, surrounded by shrubs of bright purple flowers that he had tended to at the start of spring. Leading up to the door was a small set of front concrete steps and the ramp that he had swept himself a few days ago. However, the normally serene entrance was unrecognizable with the yellow caution tape barring entry and police officers guarding the entrance.

The woman continued on with her report. “...documents had been strewn across several desks and their bodies were found inside of the facility. Initial investigations state that it appears that both victims had been stabbed to death in their respective spare bedrooms, though the exact circumstances leading up to their deaths or a potential motive for targeting this rural rehabilitation facility remain unknown. With little evidence left behind, no initial suspects have been identified at this time for this double homicide, but the police have been considering...”

The woman continued talking as the image changed to present the pictures of the victims. Two middle-aged adults, one man and one woman. Akechi’s breath caught in his throat and his blood ran cold.

It was Azumi-san and Nobu-san. His caregivers.

They were killed.

His knees grew weak, threatening to give in beneath him. His hand pressed against the wall beside him was the only thing holding him up, his eyesight growing cloudy and wet. His thoughts left him in a suffocating fog. He had enough sense in him to speed walk instead of run down the hall, but his footfalls still seemed to reverberate loudly through his body. Bursting into the men’s washroom, he ducked into an empty bathroom stall and yanked the door shut, locked it, and sat trembling on the toilet seat. His hands pressed against his eyes, the wetness quickly dampening his fingers, his lungs aching with the effort of keeping his heaving sobs quiet, though no one else appeared to be in the washroom with him.

_Why? Why them!?_

Everything morphed into a muddled mess, images and conclusions swirling everywhere at once. The true details about what happened are no doubt being covered up to hide the conspiracy’s tracks by the few cops that remained loyal to their cause. But there was one underlying truth that shook him to his core more so than his sobs:

_This is all my fault._

Everyone that had ever cared about him ends up getting destroyed in some way. That's all he's ever done. Intentional or not, he does nothing but destroy everything he touches, a wake of devastation trailing behind him.

“Akechi?” Yusuke whispered across the stall door. Akechi’s breath caught in his lungs. “I heard you running down the hall.”

“G-Go away!” Akechi said, his voice weak, unrecognizable to himself.

Yusuke whispered gently. "You knew those people, didn’t you?” Akechi didn’t answer. “Were they the people that texted you yesterday? The people who had protected you?”

"Yes….They were," Akechi replied, his breathing hitched. "The conspiracy killed them...it's all...because of me." He couldn't breathe and silently wished that his body would just collapse in on itself already so that his pain would end somehow.

Yusuke didn’t speak nor did he make any move to leave. “Could you open the door, please?” he asked.

Akechi sat there for a long moment, rubbing the tears from his cheeks and breathing slowly with focused effort. Without a word, he stood up, unlocked the door, and slowly pushed it open, but refused to look Yusuke in the eye. That didn't seem to change the artist's mind, firmly planted in front of him with no indication that he was going to budge.

“I’m not an expert in this sort of thing, but I highly doubt that an art school would be a place that they would think to look for you.” Yusuke said.

Akechi understood the unspoken offer being extended to him.

He turned his heated face up at Yusuke with a scowl, raising his voice. “You're such a fucking idiot. Did you not see what happens when people try to help me?”

“The others risked their lives to save mine!” he yelled back. There it was. A crack of anger, of guilt, seeping into Yusuke's voice.

Yusuke's eyes got lost in thought, scratching his arm as he continued. “I was alone. My hands were tied, and I couldn't bring myself to leave, even though I was suffocating. I was certain that no one could save me, especially so when I pushed Akira and the others away several times when they reached out to me." Yusuke didn’t look down at him in pity. Rather, it was a look of mutual understanding. He let out a dry, unamused chuckle. "Believe me, Akechi. You probably wouldn't believe how damn stubborn I was."

"Why are you telling me this?" Akechi asked.

"Because I know how terrifying it is to reach out for help, especially when your life is on the line," Yusuke's face suddenly hardened. "And you're not the only one whose mother died thanks to a selfish father figure."

When Akechi looked at himself in a mirror after a particularly bad day, he thought about his mother's death, how Shido was going to pay for what he did, and he would notice this everburning presence in his eyes like stubborn embers. That burning look was present in Yusuke, though perhaps better concealed, behind those normally cool, collected eyes.

Yusuke stepped back, the look in his eyes now gone. “I'll keep an eye to be sure no one spots you on your way out. However, if you do choose to stay, I will do whatever I can to help you, to end this cycle once and for all.” Yusuke silently extended an open hand.

No. He couldn’t ruin Yusuke’s life too.

Could Akira be another option? Wait, no. Absolutely not. Akechi never had the heart to reach out to him since they returned to their reality. No point giving him more unnecessary pain by strolling into his life considering that he should've been dead twice over by this point.

Akechi searched the artist’s expression, desperate to find any reason to shove him away, to keep him from getting involved. But no. Yusuke's face was as firm and clear as his resolve. And honestly, for once, he really did need some help. There was no other way.

Straightening his posture, he wordlessly reached out and accepted the handshake.

Two things stuck out to him: Yusuke’s thin hand was cool to the touch. And he too was shaking.


	3. Reluctant Navigator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the month long delay, but at least progress is being made. This chapter is bit rough, but I at least hope it works.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The teacher’s droning voice bounced off of Yusuke’s ears as he couldn’t concentrate on the science lecture. He could only stare blankly at his page, half filled with attempted notes, tapping his pen repeatedly against his notebook as the true severity of what he had just gotten himself into sank his insides into the earth below.

Akechi was right. He truly was an idiot. What could _he_ possibly do?

When he watched the news with everyone else in the common room, something about these murders seemed off to him somehow. It might’ve been some sort of instinct that had developed during his phantom thief ventures, but either way, he sensed that something was wrong. Instinctively thinking that Akechi might understand, he had turned back just in time to see Akechi’s form disappear down the hall. The connection between the conversation yesterday about his caretakers had clicked into place.

After Akechi agreed to stay, Yusuke led Akechi out of the bathroom and back into his room to rest, though he wondered why Akechi’s futon was left behind at his front door. Probably too exhausted to speak from his tears, Akechi wordlessly took the futon and tossed it into the narrow floor space between Yusuke’s desk and bed. 

Yusuke pointed at his desk. “There’s some snacks in the desk drawer, if you want. We’ll talk later about what to do once classes are done, alright?” Akechi, already burying himself under the futon sheets and staring at the wall, only nodded in response before Yusuke closed the door and hurried off to class.

“Kitagawa!” his head jerked up. It was his science teacher crossing her arms. “Have you been listening?”

“I, uh,” Yusuke’s brain short-circuited. What was this lesson about again? Something about chemistry, right? Too bad chemistry wasn’t his strong suit. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been feeling well this morning.” It wasn’t entirely a lie.

The class murmured as he kept his head down. The teacher sighed and continued on with the lecture.

He really should be paying attention. Art was what he was best at, sure, but he had to maintain decent grades in his other core subjects to maintain his scholarship status. Without it, he’d no longer have a place to live as he couldn’t afford to live there otherwise. He didn’t want to bother Sojiro, even though the older man had always insisted that he would help Yusuke if he needed a place to stay. He had been getting by with the art commissions and some art contest wins that provided money for his essentials and art supplies. Yet even with all of this to worry about, there was also this internal drive to create more art, specifically more art that was his own, not under the name of his former mentor, hence why he had been applying for art vendor opportunities over the coming summer and fall.

With all of this on his plate already, why did he choose to entangle himself in this dangerous venture alongside Akechi, risking his own chance for a better future, his own life, in the process? The answer came to him as the image of Akechi’s reddened, tear-stained face crossed his mind once more.

Yusuke didn’t want to be weak anymore. The others helped him, but he wasn’t able to return the favor. What could he provide? Even Akira, the person who had the most to lose with that farce of a criminal record forced upon him while living in a new place, could help those in need despite risking his own stability to do so. That's what made him the leader. Akira was the kindest and strongest person that he had ever met.

Yusuke had little to offer them to return their kindness, both then and now. But he would do what he can. He refused to willingly abandon someone who had no one to turn to, to focus solely on his own ambitions if those that relied on him had to suffer for it.

He refused to be like Madarame.

The school bell’s melodic yet emotionless chime at day’s end was normally a sound of freedom, but today, it also felt foreboding, signalling to Yusuke to return and face the new reality that he was now a part of. Wasting no time, he hurried back to the dorms to check in on Akechi.

He softly knocked on the door. “It’s me, Fox,” he said, figuring that using his codename would be better as anyone could claim to be Yusuke.

“Come in,” Akechi replied.

Looking over his shoulders to be sure that the hallway was empty, Yusuke entered and closed the door behind him. Akechi was sitting at Yusuke’s desk, poring over Yusuke’s art theory textbook.

“How did you sleep?” Yusuke asked.

Akechi shrugged as he closed the book. “I’ve slept enough.” The dullness of his eyes suggested otherwise, but Yusuke didn’t push it.

Yusuke remembered something."Oh yeah!" He pulled out his cell phone. “I completely forgot to ask for your contact information. Just in case of an emergency.”

“Oh...” Akechi’s eyes widened in surprise, then he scratched the back of his head. “I...sort of destroyed my phone by tossing it into the toilet and throwing it in the dorm’s garbage dumpster.”

“You WHAT?!”

Akechi answered nonchalantly. “Relax, it was a burner phone anyway. You think I’m dumb enough to have a fully operational phone at this point? Still, it was the one phone that could connect me to them...” Akechi’s voice grew quiet. “Can’t stand to look at it anymore.”

Akechi stood up from the desk and went straight to the point. “Since you made the terrible decision to help, what exactly do you have in mind?”

Yusuke’s hands fiddled with his cell phone. “I don’t know.” His phone stilled as an idea came to him.

“You’re right. I don’t have a clue on where to start,” He turned on his phone and looked through his contacts and stopped on a particular name. “But Futaba might.”

Akechi’s eyes widened, shaking his head in disbelief. “No. You’re not serious.”

“I am. Her hacking skills could give us some information to work off of.”

“She won’t help if she knows that I’m involved! Not after what happened with Wakaba...” Akechi broke eye contact, his mind lost elsewhere. 

“How would I lie about it? She should know that you’re still around so that she’s aware of how serious this all is. She’s our only chance. If this idea fails and she refuses, we’ll continue to hide you and—”

“No,” Akechi cut in. He took a deep breath, mulling over the idea. “Sitting around and waiting won’t help anything. I just want this to be over. So, try it.”

Akechi was putting a lot of trust in him, more so than what the former assassin was clearly comfortable with. This massive weight was intimidating, but he had to make this work. She should be done with her school day in Shujin by now. Yusuke dialed her number and waited for her response.

After a few rings, she answered.

“Hey, Inari!” she replied.

He rolled his eyes at the obnoxious nickname with a small smile tugging at his face. “Hello, Futaba. How has your day been?”

“Ugh, it’s been so boring,” she groaned. “Same for you, I’m guessing? ‘Cuz you must be real desperate to talk with _me_ instead of painting or something.”

Yusuke let out an uneasy laugh. “You’re not too far off in that I’m...desperate. I need your help.”

Yusuke and Akechi had arrived at LeBlanc a bit earlier before Yusuke’s scheduled meeting time with Futaba. Standing in the late afternoon air, the warm aura of the cafe that’s become a home of sorts to him quells the nerves in his stomach. If only this were a casual get together. Yusuke noticed the warm that made Akechi’s face glow. He might even be smiling under that face mask. Akira had mentioned offhandedly that Akechi had become a regular at the location for a couple of months before getting involved with the Phantom Thieves.

“Are you alright?” Yusuke gently asked.

The look disappeared from Akechi’s features, hardening his face once more. “I hope I will. Let’s just hope that she cooperates with us.” From there, he ducked into the narrow alleyway towards the local bathhouse to wait for Futaba and Yusuke to go inside LeBlanc.

He and Futaba had agreed to meet there and Sojiro closed up the place early, though he firmly told Yusuke to not keep Futaba occupied for too long as she still had homework to do.

Already out of her school uniform and in her casual clothes, she continues to sit in that gremlin-like way in the booth across from him. She sipped her coffee and tilted her head curiously. “Ya know, I'm still not sure what you need my help for. You were kinda vague about it over the phone.”

Yusuke sipped at the well-balanced coffee that he had treasured despite the nerves churning in his stomach. He tried to keep a calm face as he glanced at the entry door behind Futaba. Akechi was now peeking in with his hoodie and mask on, waiting for Yusuke to let him in.

“Hmm...” Futaba narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re not asking for relationship advice, are you?”

“What? No! Nothing of the sort!”

“Oh. Phew!” Futaba let out an awkward, relieved laugh. “I thought that you were starting to fancy someone. I mean, Sumire and I have only been a thing for barely a month! I don’t have the EXP points to help in that area yet!”

Yusuke could only laugh awkwardly, not sure how to respond. He sipped his coffee again, unsure of how to tell her about the situation. Even on the train ride here, he couldn't think of any clever way to go about this.

"Hey," Futaba’s voice dropped her perky tone and her brown eyes behind her round glasses looked at him in concern. “Really, though. What is it?”

Yusuke sorted out the thoughts in his head the best he could. He decided that he might as well be honest with her. “You’re not going to like this. The Conspiracy that Shido had created? They’re still around, and my understanding is that they’re waiting for a chance to reemerge into the public sphere. I’d like to ask for your hacking expertise once more, hopefully for the last time.”

She blankly stared at him. Alright, maybe that was too straightforward.

Futaba shifted in her seat with an uneasy laugh. “Nice try. Is this your attempt at some twisted, fashionably late April Fool’s joke?”

Yusuke sighed in resignation, bracing himself for the brewing storm. “It’s not a joke,” he looked past her and nodded at Akechi outside. After a moment of hesitation, Akechi opened the door, the bell jingling cheerfully at his entry. Futaba turned around in her seat. Her face paled, trembling at Akechi’s approach as he removed his face mask revealing his guarded expression.

“What the hell?” Futaba gasped quietly with wide eyes. “This—This isn’t isn’t funny!”

“Believe me, I wish this was a joke,” Akechi said. Futaba flinched in response as if a statue had just started talking to her. Akechi shrugged. “Though, that I can’t seem to die must be funny to the universe, at least.”

The air grew still and thick, like being submerged underwater unable to breathe.

Then it cracked loudly with Futaba’s slap against Akechi’s face.

“Ow!”

“Futaba!” Yusuke chastised.

“Huh. So you are real,” she glared at Akechi with hardened eyes. “Almost couldn’t tell if you were some impressive lookalike. I mean, since when did those freckles exist?”

Getting a better look at Akechi, rubbing at his reddened cheek with his hand, Futaba was right. There were indeed light brown freckles dotting the apples of his cheeks. How come he’s never noticed it before? Perhaps Akechi had used makeup to appear to have flawless skin as part of his celebrity identity?

"I've always had them," Akechi turned his glare from Futaba to him. “I told you this was a terrible idea.”

Futaba sat up properly, something she only did when she was tense or nervous. “Hold up! How is he here? What's going on?”

“This idiot doesn’t know how to keep out of other people’s business.” Akechi said.

“ _You_ found him?” Futaba gawked.

“By chance, yes,” Yusuke turned towards Futaba sitting across from him, trying to not panic as the situation spiralling out of control and emotions running high. “Futaba, I know you’re upset—”

“Gee, no shit, Sherlock! Why should I deal with this _again_?” she asked.

Yusuke raised his voie. “Listen, it’s not like I planned to put my life in danger again either! This isn’t ideal for any of us.”

“Except for him, maybe?” Futaba sneered and jerked a thumb towards Akechi.

“My life’s in danger too!” Akechi bit back. “Haven’t you seen any news about the double homicide just outside of Tokyo?”

“Yeah, so? Was that your doing?”

“They’re dead because they tried to protect me!” Akechi shouted, shocking Futaba to silence. He broke eye contact, blinking rapidly for a few moments as his whole face threatened to grow more red. After a few breaths, he made eye contact with Futaba, speaking with intense control over his voice. “I hate the idea of working with you as much as you do. I would gladly continue this investigation on my own, had circumstances worked out differently,” he looked over at Yusuke briefly before turning his attention back to her. “But, now that Yusuke’s involved, I’m trying to get this done quickly and quietly so that he doesn’t suffer the same fate as Azumi-san and Nobu-san.”

Futaba hugged at her knees, processing everything that had just happened. Her face was softening though.

Yusuke spoke gently. “Please. Your skills are what we need to stop Shido’s people for good. If we do this, we won’t have to worry about them anymore. You and the others, we’ll all be safe from them for good.”

They waited patiently until Futaba let out a sigh. “Fine, but only under one condition.”

“Name it,” Yusuke said, just relieved that Futaba had agreed at all.

She turned to Akechi. “I need to track your phone for security purposes. I have to keep an eye on you to be sure you aren’t trying to pull something on us again.”

“No objections, but I already destroyed my phone to prevent it from getting tracked.”

“Well, that’s just great.” Futaba replied with annoyance. “Guess you’re the lucky person to test this out!” From her pocket, she pulled out a slightly older model smartphone, but still relatively new. She handed it over to Akechi who looked it over.

“I don’t recall this being your phone,” Akechi said.

“That’s 'cuz it's not mine. Well, not the one that I use on the daily. That there’s a little prototype that I’ve been playing around with for a few months. Its operating system runs under a security program I’ve created. It’s also the same security program that I have installed in my laptop and computer that kept me from being tracked while we were Phantom Thieves.”

“So this thing can’t get tracked either?” Akechi asked as he turned it on.

“That’s right! Any attempts to crack into your phone and I’ll be the first to know so that I can alert you and try to block it off from either my laptop or computer.”

“That’s amazing! But, why did you bring it in the first place?” Yusuke asked.

“To be honest, I suspected that something weird was going on, so I took this thing along just in case.”

That’s just like her, making sure she’s one step ahead of the curve. If only he had the foresight that she had.

“Will I be able to text Yusuke with it without it being traced?” He stepped over towards Yusuke. “You did want to exchange our contact information before.”

“But, how will that affect my phone? Would those conversations be tracked?” Yusuke asked.

“No worries. Any information that gets sent out of the prototype phone is protected, so as long as Akechi’s phone number can’t be identified, any conversation you have with him will be hard to detect. Aside from me, of course.”

Yusuke breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good to know.”

Switching phones to input their phone numbers, Yusuke had a quick peek at how this prototype phone looked. It was fairly minimal, almost like factory settings aside from some apps which he assumed were some of Futaba’s security meddling. They switched their phones back once they were both done.

“So, what’s the first order of business?” Futaba asked.

“I assume you at least had some sort of plan when I ran into you, Akechi?” Yusuke scoots over for Akechi to take a seat beside him, but Akechi doesn’t sit down, instead choosing to sit on a bar stool to face their booth.

“Since yesterday morning, I was scoping out the group’s previous meeting places for any clues, but just as I suspected, most of them have been changed by now, even if only temporarily. With Shido gone, they’re going to take whatever information they had somewhere else.”

“But if they did it in a hurry, wouldn’t there be anything left behind that we could scrounge up?” Yusuke asked.

“Maybe with physical proof, but there is one possibility. In some of these meeting places across Tokyo, the organization had installed hidden, specialized terminals that would allow us to send data to a centralized network. They’d often bedisguised as part of the building or environment so that only those in the group know of their true purpose. I’m fairly certain that some of them would remain as it would be costly in both time and resources to remove them. Plus it would draw too much attention from the public’s curiosity, exactly what they don’t want as it could draw them back into the public eye before they’re ready.”

Yusuke was never as technologically adept as Futaba, but he can sort of put the pieces together. “So they would keep at least some terminals running and divert the terminal information to a new central hub?”

“Precisely,” Akechi nodded.

“Woah!” Futaba’s eyes lit up with a newfound giddiness. “That totally sounds like something from a spy movie! Those terminals have USB ports, right?” Futaba asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Then this’ll just be like how we got the info from Sae-san’s laptop last time.” Futaba continues her explanation. “In layman’s terms, you’ll have to install my USB program into several of those terminals across the city, at least three should suffice. Assuming that they’re at least partially operational, we could gather whatever information is leftover in those ‘streams,’ so to speak. In the best case scenario, I might even be able to triangulate some of that coding to locate their new central information hub.”

“So we have to go to these places, use the USB at those terminals, and not get caught?” Akechi clarified.

“Yep,” Futaba nodded. “Then maybe, just maybe, we’ll have information to work with.”

“Seems simple enough,” Yusuke’s body grew less tense now that a plan was in place. At least it’s progress. “How long until that USB is ready?”

Futaba shrugged. “Dunno. Now that I’m in school, I can’t be coding all the time like I used to. Considering that I need to specially build its hardware and update its security measures to prevent the USB’s software from being tracked, I’m thinking maybe a few days. That stuff ain’t happening overnight.”

“So we’ll just have to wait.” Yusuke sank back into his seat.

They’ll have to make their living situation work. How’s he going to budget now that they’ll have to get more clothes for Akechi and stretch the food out between them?

So much for returning to a normal life.


End file.
